Martoons

Cast of characters

Mr Go

*

Neon Flashbacks   

The paper showed the complete, long list of IOUs Mr Go had put on his tab at Max’s establishments – bottles of premium five-star soju, imported choice cigarettes, hour upon hour of singing room time – and it was all now due.

He looked away from it quickly and then nudged his head from side to side in disbelief and defeat.

* Just how much money does Go owe Max? *

“This is unbelievable,” he muttered.

What the hell had happened?

It seemed like yesterday he’d been rolling in cash…

One year ago in his office at Central.

After dark when the institute was quieting down and the last clients were filtering out, Go had taken to gazing out his window.

There was something about all the flashing lights.

* Why is Go so drawn to the lights? *

He felt like a king peering down from his castle.

He’d light up a smoke and squint down over the blocks of neon signs boldly advertising bars, lounges and VIP hostess rooms.

When he’d launched his business only months before and had no disposable cash, these flashing signs were eyesores.

Have I landed in sin city?

Evil abounds.

The rot has set in.

I must hold my head high and march through this swamp of immorality.

The signs’ incessant flickering gave him a headache.

His solution was the bottle of soju stashed down in the desk’s bottom left drawer – the one with the lock on it.

But he found that after taking a few swigs and relaxing, his eyes would avert back to the signs.

So many of them.

Flash, flash, flash;

flicker flicker flash.

Nothing to hide.

Decadence for sale.

Come and get it.

There’d been nothing like this in his hometown.

There were lady establishments – of course – but you just knew where they were;

in the corners of houses, the back-end of buildings, etc., but never any prominent signage.

Here it was so …

shamelessly …

blatant.

The first time he’d seen flashing neon was during the army, when he’d gone on leave in Seoul.

After having a mild epileptic seizure on one such occasion, the army doctor had told him not to go back to the big smoke.

So, both fearing the signs and hating what they stood for – decay of human decency – he’d sit up in his Central office late at night, grinding his teeth together.

Yet he couldn’t take his eyes off those infernal signs!

Another swig of soju.

The bottle …

half gone.

Then all gone.

And still, his eyes glaring at the bright lights;

his mind railing and rallying against the cornucopia of pleasures they symbolized.

As the last drops of his last soju bottle (for now) affected his brain, Go finally admitted something to himself:

He felt left out and lonely.

All work and no play was making Go a dull boy.

He was quickly coming to loath Chinju and if this was going to be his home, something had to change.

Okay, so it was too quiet here and there was nothing to do.

Here wasn’t his hometown and he knew no one.

How can I meet peers? 

At those very, exact establishments down there in the red-light district!

With the soju coursing through his veins, his eyes locked on a huge curved sign flashing…

KISS VIP ROOM     KISS VIP ROOM     KISS VIP ROOM

*

Tomorrow: Go’s soju consumption starts to become a problem.